Edtastrophe
by alyeth
Summary: After having strange dreams of misfortune in finding the Philosopher's Stone, Ed goes to different measures to protect those around him... some that could even take losing something to gain something much worse in return.
1. Chapter 1

Aly-chan is at it again... **>**D Mwamwamwa!

Hey guys, it's been SUCH a long time since I've gotten on here to write a story. I know, I say it everytime, but I've got a new obsession, a new goal, a new tragic ending in mind! D

Rather, FMA isn't the most cheerful go-happy animes, and I'm going to take that to my advantage to make this increasingly depressing. Yes, I'm evil, and yes, I have amusement in writing this.

I'd appreciate it a lot if you R&R, because it really does make me happy that someone read my story that took me almost a week to do. ; OVER a week to come up with the plotline, and believe me, this is such a twisted unexpected story. Hope you will like it, and this may contain spoilers, I don't know.

So please, enjoy. And make sure NOT to drink your milk! ;D

Disclaimer - I don't own FMA or any of its characters.. -lesigh-

* * *

Trapped in guilt, or has guilt trapped itself inside of oneself?

Is science merciful to man, or does man fall merciful before science?

**Chapter 1** - Introduction to Alchemy

_I said I'd do this, no matter what the cost. I'm not a man who breaks my word, not like that bastard that left us with Mom and caused her to die of grief. I won't do that to you, I won't allow you to feel that pain..._

Tremoring silence, resonating throughout the proximity of the room, was broken by a deafening outcry of a boy enveloped in a series of blankets, now sitting upright, golden orbs wide open with unperceived fear; breath in spasmodic gasps of shallow air. The boy known as Edward Elric was situated in the array of sheets, face briefly contorted by whatever had aroused it to do so; shoulder length blonde hair bedraggled and misconfigured out of its regular immaculate braided form.

Intermittently gripping the blankets, reassuring himself the tribulation of a dream had finally ceased to exist, the teenage boy eventually was relinquished from his short-lived alarm and panic, and hastily wiped an oncoming bead of sweat from flowing down his face away from a fold in one of the dinged blankets, appearing fatigued as he did so. For almost a fortnight these bizarre dreams had been occuring, and only resulting in his own screams piercing through the frigid crisp air that met the morning dew and the sunlight.

Did he possess even the slightest memory of what had been enacted? With a scorn and incoherent mumble of words, the alchemist impetuously shoved aside the blankets, allowing himself to be free of the perhaps pernicious visions he embraced in his once dreamy state. Hesitating at the action of relishing the morning, he remained sitting up on the comfortable mattress, swinging his legs -- though unaware of the fact he was doing it. When a high-pitched shrill became audible, he immediately ended movement of his legs, realizing that his bare left leg, completely made from metal, had created the sound that had ceased to resonate any longer.

Grimacing in spite of something, Ed could hear massive footsteps being heard from down the hall, approaching, approaching. Although the alchemist knew those footsteps exactly to the last echo it emanated, he made no move to welcome or assist in allowing his brother, Alphonse, into the room. Unfortunately, this had become itinerary for the two, and they both possessed an inner understanding that never needed much verbal expression.

Sure enough, the large suit of armor, his fourteen year old brother, his _younger_ fourteen year old brother, entered the room. Though Al didn't make any notion really to do anything -- he only averted whatever he had for eyes downwards to the creaky wood planks imbedded into the ground; the surface deprived of its needed care and upkeep. Silence shrouded the room like hazy fog would surround a valley -- empty and inexorably awkward.

This remained until Alphonse deduced what time would be most appropriate to speak. Ed didn't appear to even acknowledge his sibling, but grip onto the bedpost rather tightly, allowing his eyes to focus on directly one fragment of the quilt he beforehand abandoned, analyzing its functions and intricate loopholes and designs. "... Brother? Did you... have another bad dream?" Al inquired, folding his hands together in a more downturned fashion. "do you remember what it was about?"

Finally, as if Ed decided it was now that he needed to address Al's presence, he relieved the pressure off of his battle-worn hands and met his gaze with equal understanding. "I drew a complete blank as soon as I woke up." His tone was monotone, and with hints of dwelling venom condensed deeply into every spoken word. There was obviously significance in the dream -- he'd been having the same one for more than a few consequential times -- he was sure of that. But why?

Stretching his benumbed muscles, stiff from perhaps sleeping in anodd position during the night, Edward arose from his bed, though not causing much of a formidable stance due to his lack of vertical height. Yawning sluggishly, the alchemist eyed his brother one last time, adorning a grin to perchance evading him from Ed's own worries. Al didn't need to endure Ed's issues unaccountably, or so he thought.

Heading toward the kitchen in hopes of finding some morsel of food, Ed passed around Al, the gigantic suit of armor following behind him -- evidently not convinced from his sibling's attempt at cheering him up. Ominous disappointment shrouded the boy's features as he concluded there to be not a single trifle of edible substance in the kitchen. Al frowned -- Ed was sadistic at times -- but today it seemed a bit more depleted in spirits than he had in a while.

Ed, now accustomed to reclining himself on the couch and periodically opening and closing his silver pocket-watch, could only ponder what next would become of their long tedious journey for the infamous Philosopher's Stone. The ruby stone they had been searching for for almost four years... to defy the laws of Equivalent Exchange; of alchemy itself. Narrowing his eyes, Edward arose from the patched blue sofa, and, grouping his thoughts, ventured into his room to dress in his usual attire.

Emerging with his indistinguishable black pants and shirt to match, the white gloves, and his acclaimed blood-red coat, he saw Al sitting upon the couch he once sat in not ten minutes earlier. "I'm going to the Central library, you coming?" At the remark his brother immediately started, probably too quickly for the floor than it would've preferred. "Of course I'm coming, I will always accompany you, Brother."

Recalling his Brother's constant vigilance of his fealty, Edward could only nod, the blonde woven braid whipping alongside his movement of approval. "I want to look at some more books to find out more about the Philosopher's Stone." "I figured as much." The retort suprised Ed and made him slightly off-guard, the renowned alchemist glancing back at his brother with interrogation glimpsing his features. But, when no interrogation made after a meet and part with their eyes, the two headed to Central, unbounded on their hopeless task of repentance.

* * *

After easily endeavoring the short journey to the Central Library, they ascended the stairs, the brothers then veering into the large inventory of works -- biographies, tributes, documentaries -- almost everything was at the centrifugal temple of literature. Wearily sighing at the day ahead, reading, throwing, and screaming mindlessly at books, though despite his complaints, Ed wasted not a minute in finding a book and sat himself behind a stack of superannuated works and began flipping the pages of data.

Al, not quite meeting so much ecstatic demeanor or feeling for the encased writing, navigated a little ways from Edward, finding something to his liking, since he intervened in his brother's endless flipping of pages. "Brother, remember this? Introduction to Alchemy -- this brings back lots of memories, doesn't it?" Ed, skeptical at first about abandoning his position, meaninglessly tossed the book he previously had aside and stood to face the cognizant object, gently confiscating the book from Al. "Yeah, it does..."

It didn't quite bring back the memories he was expecting -- not of his Mother, nor of ther childhood -- plaintive imagery that was foreign, images of the Philosopher's Stone, of a faint distant voice reverberating words, words that were of caution, words that were becoming coherent as the seconds flew past as if they were the revolving of the Earth itself. Instead of a blunt objection, as the alchemist had predicted, it was a mere riddle of sorts, a riddle he didn't understand as soon as the child-like voice spoke :

_Hear me now; for sin is near_

_For your sacrifice you lost something dear_

_Evermore your fate is sealed_

_And soon, if solved, your life revealed_

_Now is now and back is then_

_If now is solved you start over again_

_Do not take back what's yours to keep_

_For what you will gain is deemed far more cheap_

_Foreboding my word is wise to those close_

_Or nothing will come from your dream of repose _

_Keep crimson away; for it is demise_

_And if this is taken lightly, then say your goodbyes_

_For this is warning of hope in disguise_

Feeling all the cloudy feelings leave his body as if it was his soul, Ed dropped the book, looking up to see Al shaking him violently, Ed's feet no longer comfortably placed on safe ground. Sound returned in a quickened flash like lights would flicker on in a completely aphotic room, all in one instant his senses and body returned in his control. Since Al's message obviously didn't relay to his brother, he attentively placed Ed back on the floor, releasing his protective grip on the teenager.

"Brother, you were screaming that you wanted to die and you almost transfigured your automail into a dagger to try to get me to release you... I couldn't get through to you at all..." Ed's feet gave away under him and he felt his back clash with the dense wood and books that had once been behind him. His throat was parched and his arms were shaking, as well as the rest of his body. Ed tried to get a hold of some support so his vision would perhaps improve -- clear through that incessant haze that was threatening his consciousness...

But to of no avail -- the last image he saw was the flash of the books and of Al's faint voice of concern-- and no more.

_And if this is taken lightly, then say your goodbyes..._

_And then in a flash, you're gone and you DIE._

* * *

Whoah, why did Ed see that? Dx; What did his dream mean? WHY did he say he wanted to kill himself? You'll have to find out next chapter, and you betta R&R or I won't be happy-go-lucky to make this tragic. Mks? D

I know the intro was REALLY boring, but I kind of needed a crutch to get started. Hey, you know you like it. xD

Oh, and if someone knows the meaning to the poem, or can surmise what will happen from it, please, feel free to say so! It might give me some suggestions.


	2. Chapter 2 On the Edge

Aly-chan is yet again continuing...

How can't I? As of now I got PsycoNeko15 that replied, and thanks very much! I'm not going to keep you guys hanging too badly for a long time, I know how awful that can be. Then you forget about the story and yadayada.

So just sit back and watch the tastrophe unfold...

;D

* * *

**Chapter 2** - On the Edge

In an instant, Edward promptly sat upward, hearing the bustling groups of people amidst the large hospital building -- racks of foreign medicine and cartons of blood being hauled down the narrow white-covered hallways -- and murmuring voices of doctors rushing past in an attempt to perhaps salvage someone's life. His vision was clouded, like the state your eyes are in after a picture is taken with a fulgid flash; unclear, struggling to regain their usual acute awareness. In an endeavor to lift his arm, he found it to be covered in miniature cords and plugs, one he even discovered to be pumping food into his body.

Slowly realizing where he actually was, and the situation at hand, Ed stifled a yell as he tried to arise from the intolerable white sheets to contrast with the imperfect haunting of the alabaster-hued walls, eerie and undeniably unpleasant. An incoming confrontation from Al was the only thing that prevented him from tearing his ill sleeping-haven apart and abandoning recovery. "Brother... what's wrong?" Al's voice was imbedded with concern, though the distinct flints of glass-shards darting through his tone told only what he was feeling; since his physical features could not.

Ed gripped tightly on the tangible fabricated white sheets, gritting his teeth and fighting the urge for the more convenient alternative of using his alchemy to unbind him from the numerous tubes imprisoning him. His urge being quenched for the time being, he alleviated the grip he possessed on the sheets, turning to Al with immensely concentrated golden orbs, what would he say to him this time?

"It was nothing Al, guess I just wasn't thinking. Don't worry about it -- maybe an outburst I needed -- but otherwise I'm completely fine. Don't know why they're going to all this just because I passed out for a little while." At this retort Al started, emitting the sense of suprise since it wasn't obvious in his features, and he looked toward the floor in a focused demeanor. "Brother... you've been out for almost two days..." The reply caught Edward as extremely appalling, for it seemed like he'd only taken a short-lived sleep; a half-dazed nap even. Opening his mouth and then closing it again, he could only feel vulnerability at his vantage point, considering his brother would do anything possible to keep him implanted to his hospital bed; even if it meant doing so literally.

Alphonse approached him, taking one weighted step after the next, both congruent in sound, alike in mass. "They said you had passed out from lack of food and hydration, and that you looked pale and unhealthy. Brother, why are you doing this to yourself? Is it because of... those--" "It's NOT because of that Al, would you lay off?" The menacing retort made Al hesitate in his steps, then, thinking better of furtherly approaching Ed with more questions, remained stationary where he was. Ed, placing his palm over his forehead, fell back into the slightly off-set pillows, intaking a strong amount of air before releasing. "I'm sorry Al... I'm just tired. Let's get out of here. I don't need their help."

* * *

Eventually convincing his younger Brother to take him back home, Ed rushed in the house, overjoyed to be away from the treacherous hospital; Alphonse less than thrilled. But, the joy quickly supressed itself as Ed's rememberance of the voice and riddle came back. Crimson is bad? The only other object besides his cape he could think of that was crimson was the Philosopher's Stone. Why should he postpone -- and possibly abandon -- his own journey because of some wacko voice that entered his mind? Maybe his mind was toying with him, playing tricks because of its lack of energy.

His questions were quickly deterred for the moment, since they had an unexpected visitor -- Winry. Their childhood friend, Ed's mechanic, and a compassionate soul, Winry had been with them through it all, though she wasn't in on much past when they'd left Rizenbul. They never seemed to keep in touch with her, only when Edward needed a fix on his arm and leg. "Oh, Winry!" Alphonse was always excited to see her visits, since he barely acquired any home or friends during their tumultuous journey. "Alphonse!" She was equally as jovial to see him, and hugged his arm in a stupid attempt to show him how much Winry was happy to see him.

Detaching herself with a dazed naive expression, her attention turned to their apartment. "Where's Ed?" At the mention of his name, the state alchemist navigated his way to the front-room, to see Winry ornamenting her usual attire, a white tanktop with a black mini-skirt and black combat boots, hair tied into its also regular ponytail fashion. Winry's face alighted, and she pulled him toward her, her face slightly contorting into a more anger-like expression as he neared her. "How DARE you let yourself get in this condition!" Taking out a heavy wrench seemingly out of nowhere, she collided the tool with his head, creating an even more crippled Ed as he toppled to the ground.

Alphonse only watched in sheer horror at Winry's sudden atrocity, folding his hands and leaning desperately to a wall; hoping he appeared invisible to her temper. Eventually, and with a throbbing bump on the back of his head, Edward got up, mumbling unknown dissatisfaction, but promptly stopped when he saw her face. Her alluring blue eyes were staring straight into him, as worrying and serious as she'd ever portrayed to him. "What's wrong Ed? You never talk to anyone anymore, and Al told me what happened today. Why don't you speak up? We're all worried about you, and you're pushing us away... how are we supposed to help you if we don't know what's wrong, Ed?"

She quieted, dropping her wrench and lowering her head, perhaps to try to get her point across more effectively. Either way, her worry and concern was more than obvious to him, though his first reaction would be much different. First glaring indecisively at Al, he faced her again, folding his arms. "Nothing's WRONG with me! All my life, it's always been 'what's wrong?' Can I not have SOMETHING to myself - since my whole life has been pried into by everyone? It's because of the damn decision I made that we're the way we are, and I will compensate it my own way! I am carrying the burden on my own, so stop trying to pry into what little is left of me, damnit!" Hiding his face, for fear of any precipitous feeling to be revealed through his face, he ran into the bathroom, slamming the door with a clamorous _slam!_

The two left alone in the room were left blatantly speechless. Sure, Edward was hott-headed and made rash decisions, but blowing up on Winry was uncalled for. Not that they were fully knowledgable of why he did it, perhaps whatever was bothering him must've triggered it. Winry gaped toward the bathroom, turning to Alphonse. "Did I say something wrong?" Thinking the idea to be the worst sin in the world, she covered her face and started sniffling, then soon after leading into a soft-heard weep. Alphonse, looking around awkwardly for some manuever to calm her, he patted her shoulder, gazing curiously ahead into the room where Ed was situated.

* * *

Ed felt something inside of him slowly deteriorating, the will to go on, that will that separated him from his father. As soon as the thought came to mind, he gripped his hair and began shaking, feeling innumerable tears run down his face. "No.. I'm not like that bastard..." Reaching into his pocket and revealing an acuate dagger, he formed gashes down his free arm, alleviating pain with pain. "I'm... not.. you..." He could feel the crimson liquid relinquishing the thought, as it poured down the sinkhole, into oblivion... where he deserved to be. _Why am I still alive? I don't deserve to be alive... Al should have a life, one that doesn't have to have his soul binded to armor to live..._ It only ushered the many tears and sobs that emitted from him afterwards, that similar pain of guilt stabbing at him much more than the dagger had.

Keeping his arm over the sink, he stared at the reflection of himself in the mirror, gazing at a teenage boy, who hadn't a normal life from the time alchemy was acquired in his blood. Disheveled hair stared back at him, and feral golden optics, as well as his inadequacy -- that, although, he was a child prodigy, he was nothing compared to regular kids that could do anything they wanted, they were free from the clutches of adult responsibility. Though inside his mind, he was increasingly aware that his sacrifice wouldn't bring Al's body back, it gave him a burning desire to do anything to get away from these responsibilities, this mandatory leash that was always tight.

Soon feeling a boiling anger rising inside of him, he broke the mirror, punching it with his automail, watching the glass disperse and scatter all over the cream-tiled floor. He heard pairs of footsteps, quick and nimble footsteps, heading toward his only semblance of freedom. They wouldn't take that away. Edging towards the window, he pounded his hands together, then pressing them to it, shattering it and creating a hole of escape. An escape of responsibility. Jumping out, he approached the roof, nothing short of sense running through his head, only the desire to alleviate himself of this impending guilt and doom he was leading his brother into.

Al broke down the locked door, opening it to reveal a pool of blood running down the sink, a broken mirror, and a shattered window. Winry, gasping, could only pull Alphonse along as they reached the roof, hoping to get there in time to save the Full Metal Alchemist from his own doom.

As they reached the roof, they saw Ed's crimson cape billowing continuously in the breeze, feet edging towards the endpoint of the secure rooftop. "Ed -- no! What are you thinking?" Winry screamed, taking a step towards him in an endeavor to get him away from the edge. Edward, turning around, faced Winry, a hint of instantaneous action covering the once sensible golden eyes. "This is for you, Al -- Equivalent Exchange, take me so Al can have his body back... anything to bring my brother back... he did nothing wrong.. this was all my fault... all my fault..." Yellow irises lost their gleam, as the alchemist turned around again, looking over the ten-story building before him.

"Brother -- just because you die isn't going to bring me back to normal! I helped you to bring mom back, it's not all your fault! Brother!" Ed gripped onto the railing, readying himself for whatever impromptu action he was deciding upon. "I can't do this anymore... we'll never find a damned Philosopher Stone... what am I going to do, how am I going to life with the fact that I --" Al had briskly knocked the teenager unconscious while amidst his confession, pulling him back away from death's ledge in one transaction. Winry, emitting a cry, ran over to Ed and cradled his head in her arms, not bothering to care that tears were dropping constantly onto Ed's face. "We almost lost him Al.. it was all because of me." Winry sobbed, holding him securely and protectively to her, blonde ponytail billowing alongside her shirt in the breeze.

"Don't you start on me, Winry!" Al picked both of them up, heading into the staircase to go back to their apartment room, hopefully not causing to attract any extra attention from any other passerby in the hallway.

_Relinquish this fate, this fate that is yours_

_Give a life sothat his is happy and ensures_

* * *

Whoah.. I'm making Ed sound a little cooky, aren't I? He's NOT crazy... or is he? You'll just have to find out next chapter. Please R&R, since only one person did last time D: Well, considering I just published this a couple of days ago, it's understandable, but. STILL!

If you people still think this is a destruction fanfic that has no plot, you're terribly wrong. I just thought I'd throw that in for fun, the real tastrophe is only beginning.. Mwamwamwa! Oo;

Stay tuned for next Chapter.. 3


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